


Cor cordium

by j_gabrielle



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, CMBYN Epilogue, Future Fic, Inspired by Call Me By Your Name, M/M, Peter is Legal because this fic is set in the epilogue of CMBYN, Pining, Pining Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-01 18:59:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19183759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_gabrielle/pseuds/j_gabrielle
Summary: "Are you happy you're back?"Tony's eyes see through him when their gazes meet. "Areyouhappy I'm back?" He retorts.





	Cor cordium

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Death_inspiresme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Death_inspiresme/gifts).



> As always, for Lily, who is a peach x
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Call Me By Your Name belongs to André Aciman, while Tony Stark and Peter Parker belongs to Marvel.  
> I took inspiration (and a bit of rewrite) from pages 244 to 248, which are the epilogue bits of the CMBYN book.

Tony arrived by cab down the sunlit tree-lined driveway, where the car stopped more or less where another so similar like it had stopped a forever before. He struggles a little with a large gift-wrapped box, one that he says sheepishly, "For May."

"Better tell her what's in it," Peter says, moving to help him carry his things in. "She suspects everyone." Tony nods, lips a thin line. He understood and it saddened him.

Peter doesn't follow him up the stairs to the old room to settle his things. He can't. Not when the mere whiff of Tony's cologne has him back under a summer sun with the smell of peaches in the air. He stays in the foyer, waiting until Tony comes back down. "Let me show you around," He offers, pushing his hair out of his face, tucking his hands into his pockets.

"Sure."

Peter takes him on a quick walk round the house; cutting into the garden, the balustrade, the view of the wine dark sea. The pool, look still there, then back into the living room where the old piano is still seated under a vase of fresh flowers and the gathering of photos of family and friends.

"You're here," He points out. Tony, the Tony from forever ago, is smiling winningly, faded suntan, faded amusement, one arm around Uncle Ben's shoulder, the other around Aunt May's waist. Moment captured in time.

"What was I laughing about?" Tony examines it with a critical eye. Peter is sure that some cutting remark about how silly he looked with his shirt unbuttoned to his navel, but none comes. "God, I was so young."

"You look the same," Peter turns his face away.

"Perhaps."

They walk out to the garden again, walking all the way out to the tilting gate that led to the sea. Neither one opens it. 

"I kept all your letters, you know."

"Oh?" Peter smiles wistfully. "I've kept all of yours too," He points back to the house. "And something else. Which I may show you. Later."

Tony doesn't reply, brown eyes looking out pensively down the path where the surf crashes on the sand. There's a curious itch to reach over and touch, but Peter grits his teeth. Was he remembering all the ways they'd known each other on that spit of sand? Were those memories coming back to him, or were they there all along?

"Are you happy you're back?"

Tony's eyes see through him when their gazes meet. "Are _you_ happy I'm back?" He retorts.

Peter looks at him, feeling quite disarmed, though in no way threatened. Like people who blush easily but have mastered the lack of shame of it and knew better than to stile the feeling. 

"You know I am. More than I ought to be, perhaps."

"Me too."

And that said it all.

They walked down into the garden where the old breakfast table used to be. 

"This was Uncle Ben's spot. I called it his ghost spot. Mine used to be over there, if you remember," Peter points to where his table used to stand by the pool.

"Did I have a spot?" Tony asks, lips curled in a half grin.

"You'll always have a spot."

Peter wanted to tell him that everything he sees, everywhere that had once carried his touch, his scent, his presence, would always be his ghost spot. Instead, he points to the darkened window of the old room, his room where the curtains have spun out against the sky. There. Tony follows the direction of his finger, and the itch to touch him comes back to fore.

Every time I look up to that window you're there, he thinks. Your eyes are forever superimposed to the shadows of the curtains, looking down at me.

For as long as the house stands, this will be your ghost spot - and mine too, Peter wants to say.

They stand there, speaking of Uncle Ben where he'd once spoken of Tony with Uncle Ben. And tomorrow he will be gone.

"Come, I'll take you to San Giacomo before you change your mind," Peter says eventually. "There's still time before lunch. Remember the way?"

"I remember the way."

"You remember the way," He echoes.

Tony looks over at him and smiles. It cheered him. Perhaps because he knew now that he is taunting him. 

"I'm like you," He says. "I remember everything."

Peter stops. 

If you remember everything, he wanted to say, and if you are really like me, then before you leave tomorrow, or when you're ready to shut the door of the taxi and have already said goodbye to everyone else and there's not a thing left to say in this life, then, just this one, turn to me, even in jest, or as an afterthought, which would have meant everything to me when we were together, and, as you did back then, look me in the face, hold my gaze, and call me by your name.

**Author's Note:**

> I have never, will never, allow any reposting or translations of my works without my permission. All of my works will and shall only be hosted on my personal accounts on AO3 (j_gabrielle), Dreamwidth (j_gabrielle) and Tumblr (randomingoftherandomness, hardheartshere).
> 
> For those who say that I never said anything, it is clearly stated on my AO3 profile bio.
> 
> I do not have a Twitter account.
> 
> I do not have a Wattpad account.
> 
> **Please Do Not Repost My Fics**


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